


body shots with a broken heart

by basinnit



Series: 100 days of writing challenge [10]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Broken Heart, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Food, Lots of alcohol, M/M, Make Outs, Mentioned Akaashi Keiji, Mentioned Bokuto Koutarou, Mentioned Kozume Kenma, Mentioned Kuroo Tetsurou, Phone Calls, Smut, fucking with a stranger, getting drunk, how the fuck do people tag smuts what the hell, i guess, mentioned Sakusa Kiyoomi/Ushijima Wakatoshi, not much of angst, wakatoshi showering in holy water, well kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:53:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25090426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basinnit/pseuds/basinnit
Summary: “Well then, Miya. I’m Sakusa Kiyoomi. Not so nice to meet you.” Kiyoomi teased. Maybe he was already drunk?Atsumu laughed again and Kiyoomi felt himself smile a little bit.“Sakusa Kiyoomi. That’s a nice name ya have. Kiyoomi… Omi! I should just call ya Omi!”“Don’t you fucking dare, Miya.” Kiyoomi snorted, yet despite his words the smile on his face never faded.orSakusa Kiyoomi has a broken heart and maybe he said that he's going to get drunk like a pig and fuck with a stranger just to make himself feel better
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: 100 days of writing challenge [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798981
Comments: 6
Kudos: 235





	body shots with a broken heart

**Author's Note:**

> special mentions to my babies from barbz vs furries gc i love you guys <3 
> 
> hi hello, good morning or afternoon.   
> this was wild and made my eyes almost fall out of my skull but that was fine. it was worth it. i hope you will enjoy it, since i don't write anything smutty often, so yeah... i hope it's good.
> 
> as always, you can find me on twitter - @R4SH0V
> 
> day 011: broken

**day 011: broken**

**Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu**

Kiyoomi was too old to cry because of that, he tried to tell himself. He was an adult, he had a job after college and an apartment he shared with his best friend Komori. He kept his room clean, had good quality clothes, and was able to cook himself a nice dinner when he had time.

So yeah, crying wasn’t something Kiyoomi wanted. He was way too prideful to sob because of this stupid reason, yet the way his eyes stung as he blinked angrily trying to make the tears go away seemed to disagree with him. 

Kiyoomi had a nice circle of friends that made him feel somehow comfortable. Fist, it was obviously Komori. He wouldn’t be living with Komori if he wasn’t comfortable with him. They were cousins, and the closest friends Kiyoomi ever wished for. 

Then, there was Koutarou, and Kiyoomi often wondered how the hell they became friends. Koutarou was loud and really fucking energetic even watching him was tiring sometimes. Being friends with Koutarou meant he was also friends with Keiji, Koutarou’s boyfriend, Tetsurou and Kenma.

Keiji was nice. He liked Keiji because when the rest of them were running in circles like fucking idiots Keiji sat with him somewhere in the corner, and they drank their water watching the rest of their friends silently. That is until Koutarou started doing really dumb things and Keiji had to go and collect his lovely boyfriend. 

Tetsurou wasn’t exactly close to him. They saw each other a couple of times, hung out together, and when Kiyoomi felt like it, they talked. But never in this whole not-so-close friendship, Tetsurou made him uncomfortable, always respecting his boundaries and knowing when to leave Kiyoomi alone. 

He was closer to Kenma. Kenma was nice, and they sometimes played video games with Koutarou and Tetsurou screaming in the background. Spending time with Kenma was nice. They had a bunch of sleepovers with Keiji during high school, and it was… a couple of pleasant memories. 

And then, there was Wakatoshi. Kiyoomi blinked faster not to cry.

It was so fucking stupid, but somewhere along the way, Kiyoomi fell for Wakatoshi. And as stupid as it was, he could have just shut up and left his pinning for himself and maybe Komori when they were sitting in the middle of the night unable to sleep. 

But of course, Kiyoomi was stupid. Wakatoshi was so nice. So warm, when he wanted to be. A little oblivious, focused on his dreams and so damn ambitious. Innocent, you would want to say. Wakatoshi was sweet, and Kiyoomi felt like a teenage girl in love when he watched his sweet friend achieve more and more. 

And then came the greed. He wanted to be there for Wakatoshi when he achieved bigger things. He wanted to be the reason Wakatoshi smiled, he felt this fucking greed to be able to call Wakatoshi his.

The confession was a disaster. Well, at least for Kiyoomi. The anxiety that filled his body when Wakatoshi looked at him surprised, opening his mouth and closing it like a fish out of the water was enough to tell Kiyoomi he fucked up.

But then, being the sweet and kind person Wakatoshi was, he started talking, with this soft voice of his, choosing his words carefully not to hurt Kiyoomi more. And it stung like shit in Kiyoomi’s chest when he found himself unable to be angry or anything because Wakatoshi was a fucking angel and Kiyoomi was just greedy. 

So yeah. Kiyoomi had a broken heart and desperately tried to stop himself from crying. As an adult, he felt obligated to go to a pub and drunk his broken heart away, yet sitting there, in a place filled with cigarette smoke made him nothing but uncomfortable. He was scowling, wishing to just go home and eat some ice cream with Komori, yet the glass filled with a random drink that he already paid for stared at him judgingly. 

It was gross. He wasn’t sure if the glass was even washed before, and the counter looked sticky too. The air was heavy, and people around him didn’t know what the fuck personal space was, filling his senses with sweat, tears, and alcohol. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t going to go to that place ever again, and he was sure he was going to scrub his skin off of his bones after coming home. 

Yet for the time being, he couldn’t bring himself to care. His first ever rejection from his basically first-ever friend. Sakusa Kiyoomi was a fuck up, and he was going to get drunk like a pig and sleep with a random stranger.

(He wasn’t, because it was disgusting, but saying that in his head made him feel a little more in control of himself)

And so, he brought the glass to his lips with a scowl and took a sip, cringing at the bitter taste in his mouth. 

“Ya look like ya could use some vodka.”

Kiyoomi moved his eyes up and glared at the person that decided to sit next to him, clearly not having any piece of good situation judgment, because he was sure he looked like he could stab anyone who decided to disturb his mental breakdown over his broken heart. 

The guy that sat on the stool next to him was holding a tall glass filled with beer, and Kiyoomi felt himself scowl even more. Beer was disgusting, not like he was one to judge with the tequila he was drinking. Or he guessed it was tequila.

He looked tall, but still a little shorter than Kiyoomi. His hair seemed dyed with a cheap dye from the local store, and Kiyoomi almost laughed at that. He looked handsome, Kiyoomi had to admit, yet the grin on his lips once again made Kiyoomi want to go home.

“I have tequila.” He mumbled, playing a little with his glass. He hoped he had weak tolerance for alcohol so he could quickly lose himself.

“Oof. That’s harsh. Broken heart?”

Kiyoomi wanted the guy to piss the fuck off. It was annoying, how a total stranger was able to sit next to him (invalid his personal space), look at him for a bare minute, and figure out that Kiyoomi was currently doubting the very existence of love. 

“I doubt it’s your fucking business so leave me alone.” 

The guy laughed next to him, taking a sip of his beer and not making any effort to let Kiyoomi be. Instead, he watched Kiyoomi closely, golden-like eyes moving across Kiyoomi’s face.

“Yer moles are cute.” The guy said and moved his hand to caress the moles above Sakusa’s eyebrow, but he quickly slapped the hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Kiyoomi scowled, wondering about drinking the whole drink straight away and leaving. What if the creep followed him and killed him in the back alley? Shit.

“Easy there, I’m not going to touch ya if ya don’t want. Sorry.” The blonde said slowly, his voice genuinely apologetic, as he moved away from Kiyoomi just a tiny bit. “What was their name?”

“Why do you care?” Kiyoomi asked, turning slightly to face the guy. Be as rude as you can so the stranger leaves you the fuck alone, he thought.

“Because I’m heartbroken myself. Damn, I know how my people look like.” 

Kiyoomi watched. The guy didn’t look like he was heartbroken, but maybe drinking cheap beer in a shabby pub in the middle of the week was enough to say he might have been heartbroken. Or just an alcoholic. 

“Wakatoshi.” He finally said, moving his hand so the barkeeper could pour him another drink.

“Mine was Kita… well, not mine, but ya get what I mean, I guess. Damn, I was devastated after the rejection.” The guy laughed, shaking his head slightly. The laugh wasn’t the happy one, Kiyoomi realized.

“Yeah, I can imagine. My broken heart brought me to this place, which is… gross.” He stated lazily, tipping his head back for the drink to burn his throat. 

“What do ya mean?”

“Uh… I’m the kind of person who hates being in dirty places like that. I will probably throw the fuck up tomorrow.” He shrugged, making the blonde laugh.

“I’m Miya Atsumu.” The guy said, taking a sip of his beer. “But ya should call me Atsumu since I have a twin brother.” The blonde, Atsumu, finished with a grin. Kiyoomi laughed.

“Well then,  _ Miya.  _ I’m Sakusa Kiyoomi. Not so nice to meet you.” Kiyoomi teased. Maybe he was already drunk?

Atsumu laughed again and Kiyoomi felt himself smile a little bit. 

“Sakusa Kiyoomi. That’s a nice name ya have. Kiyoomi… Omi! I should just call ya Omi!”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Miya.” Kiyoomi snorted, yet despite his words the smile on his face never faded. 

Surprisingly, talking with Atsumu was… nice. Helped Kiyoomi take his minds off of Wakatoshi and his broken heart, as they drank more, laughed louder, and annoyed each other with all the “Miya” and “Omi”s they said. 

The hours were passing, Atsumu’s beer glass changed to tequila shots as they drunk together, thinking less and less about the consequences of what they were doing. Maybe that was why Atsumu joked about drinking tequila from Kiyoomi’s mouth, and all the alcohol in Kiyoomi’s body made him grin and say “bet,  _ Miya” _

It was gross, the way Kiyoomi let the salt hit the skin of his hand, and the way he placed the lime on his tongue, eyes never leaving Atsumu, who was staring at him a little breathless. It was gross as fuck, and sober Kiyoomi would throw the hell up at the thought of it, but maybe drunk Kiyoomi was a hedonist and the sight of Atsumu pouring himself a tequila shot from the bottle they bought not so long ago, that teasing grin never leaving his face made Kiyoomi’s breath hitch.

Atsumu raised one brow, waiting for Kiyoomi to back out. The only thing Kiyoomi did was sticking out his tongue more, the sourness of the lime dripping down his throat just a little. 

Miya Atsumu tipped his head back, drinking the tequila quickly and then moving as fast as he could to Kiyoomi. His tongue danced across Kiyoomi’s skin, and sober Sakusa would have probably chopped his hand off. 

It was over way too soon for Kiyoomi’s liking, so as Atsumu sat back on his seat, placing the rest of the lime on the small plate they had, all he could do was saying “do one more”.

Atsumu laughed at him, but the laugher died as soon as drunk Kiyoomi somehow placed the salt on his neck, satisfied with the way Atsumu’s eyes darkened. This time, Atsumu didn’t wait. He poured the glass, threw the drink back, and the next second his lips were on Sakusa’s neck, sucking the salt from his skin.

Kiyoomi shivered softly, and just before a small sigh of pleasure was able to come out of his lips, Atsumu was kissing him. Or maybe just eating the lime. Maybe both.

He didn’t know or wanted to remember how the hell they moved from the counter to the toilets in the back, making out like they knew each other for a couple of weeks and the tension between them finally made them snap.

He wasn’t sure who had who pinned to the wall, or maybe they just switched in the middle because that seemed fair. He only knew that at one point he moaned into Atsumu’s lips and then…

Everything became a blur. He knew they used a taxi to get to… somewhere, and his brain was telling him that they might have made out in the back seats of the said taxi. He remembers stumbling on the stairs and giggling like a little kid. He remembers Atsumu throwing him onto the bed and climbing up behind him, tearing his shirt open.

He doesn’t remember what happened after that besides one, really tiny and unimportant detail. It was around three am at that time and Sakusa Kiyoomi had his face in the pillow, broken moans slipping past his red and puffy from all the kissing lips, Miya Atsumu behind him.

His phone was ringing, and he was almost sure it was Komori. Komori was his best friend, Komori would understand and would just forget about Kiyoomi answering his call mid fucking. Komori just wanted to know he was alive.

“Sorry, ‘Tsumu. Have to take it.” He mumbled, and Atsumu stopped moving at all, a grin on his lips.

“Sure, go on baby. I can wait for a little.” The blonde said, and Kiyoomi giggled slightly, answering the call with his eyes half-closed.

“Komori~. ‘m alive and good, kinda busy right now. I will be back tomorrow… or rather today.” He mumbled to the phone, Atsumu chuckling behind him. The older still didn’t move, being a gentleman and letting Sakusa talk with Komori, who, as he learned a couple of hours before, was Sakusa’s cousin and roommate.

“Uh, Sakusa-kun?” The person on the other side said, a little awkward and confused, definitely  _ not  _ Komori. Sakusa’s eyes snapped open.

“Wakatoshi?” He asked, desperately trying to sober up just a little bit. Wakatoshi was calling him, and he was drunk, tired, and had a cock deep inside his ass. “L-listen, now it’s not really-”

Miya Atsumu could tolerate Komori calling Kiyoomi in the middle of the night. He really could, he guessed he would’ve stayed still even if the guy called Koutarou called, but  _ not  _ when the person calling was  _ Wakatoshi  _ of all the people Kiyoomi knew. 

He snapped his hips forward suddenly, making Kiyoomi moan in the middle of the sentence, eyes moving back into his skull. The black-haired male was definitely too far gone to make Atsumu stop while the guy that rejected him talked on the other side. 

Maybe Atsumu was a little bit soberer, or maybe all the alcohol in him made him pick up the phone and bring it to his own ear, the other hand still holding Kiyoomi’s tiny waist and making him meet his thrusts.

“Hello, Wakatoshi-san. Sorry, but your sweet Kiyoomi is kinda… busy with me right now. Would be nice if ya called in the morning, or maybe… don’t call him at all, you dick.”

He made sure not to hung up as he tossed the phone on the bed next to them, figuring that said Wakatoshi would do it himself as soon as he heard clearly what was going on. Atsumu grinned, focusing on fucking his sweet hookup just the way he wanted, broken moans and begs slipping from Sakusa’s pretty little mouth. 

He moved his eyes onto the phone as Sakusa was cumming with Atsumu’s name on his lips. 

The line ended the exact same moment.

Sakusa decided to never drink again. He had to make sure Komori wasn’t moving the whole city upside down while searching for him, apologize to Wakatoshi after what happened, wash his body and mouth, and everything ten times and slap Miya Atsumu across the face. Maybe kick him where it hurts too. 

As he struggled to open his eyes and force his brain into thinking about something that wasn’t the fact he hooked up with a stranger after letting him do the body shots with him, he once again felt the urge to cry his eyes up.

He let the broken heart do this shit to him, and it was so fucking pathetic.

And, if that wasn’t enough to make him want to jump off the roof, Wakatoshi heard him have sex. Amazing.

The room smelled like coffee and eggs, and Kiyoomi’s stomach growled. God, he was so fucking hungry.

Opening his eyes was a hard task, but as he finally managed to do it, he instantly wished to go back to sleep once again. His head was pounding, and he felt like he was buried alive. Twice.

He slowly sat on the bed, tensing when he noticed that he wasn’t in his apartment. Which also meant that the person making the breakfast wasn’t Komori.

Miya Atsumu. Kiyoomi cussed under his breath and tried standing up, only to scowl a little at the pain in his lower back. It took him a very long, very brain-lagged second to realize that he was naked.

Fucking hell. He snatched the sheets that were probably full of sweat and cum, but it wasn’t like Kiyoomi had any other options and covered his exposed body under it, trying not to gag. 

He slowly walked out of the bedroom (which, by the way, was a really nice room) only to be met with an open space, containing both the small living room and a kitchen, with someone Sakusa assumed was Miya Atsumu in it.

Miya Atsumu looked nice, even if it took him one glance to know that Atsumu was just as hungover as he was. He looked tired and moved lazily, getting the breakfast ready. Sakusa cleared his throat, making Atsumu jump and turn around, pointing chopsticks at him.

“Oh. Hi, Omi. Or, rather, Sakusa-san, now that we’re both sober.” He said softly, moving the chopsticks down. “Uh. I will show ya the bathroom so ya can clean up. Feel free to use whatever ya need. Pretty sure I have a spare toothbrush somewhere, still new, so don’t worry. I will bring ya some dry-cleaned clothes I have if that’s fine.” Atsumu said, smiling at him a little nervously.

Kiyoomi was speechless. He wasn’t expecting the blunt a little obnoxious Atsumu from the evening to be so sweet to him in the morning, tired, hangover and sore. Suddenly the urge to break his neck like a twig vapored from his body, and he was left with a warm and fuzzy feeling in his stomach. 

“Yeah, that would be nice. And, Omi is fine, I guess.” He mumbled, making Atsumu giggle at him. The blonde showed him the bathroom, got him the spare toothbrush ready, and left, saying he will leave the clothes in a bag on the floor in front of the door. 

The shower sure did its thing in helping Sakusa feel better. He washed off the sweat, dirt (cum), and alcohol away from his body, which instantly made him feel like himself again. All that was left was his hunger and the throbbing pain in his skull. 

The clothes Atsumu left him were nice and a little oversized on Sakusa, but that was fine. Atsumu gave him coffee, aspirin for the pain in his head, and an amazing breakfast filled with small talk about ordering a taxi to drive Kiyoomi off. It was fine, the way Atsumu wasn’t pressing to touch him again or wasn’t urging him to get the fuck out. It was sweet, a little domestic, and a small voice in his head wondered why couldn’t he fall for Atsumu, not Wakatoshi.

Wakatoshi, right. The images from the previous night flashed in front of Kiyoomi’s eyes and he felt his cheeks burn a little.

_ “Sorry, but your sweet Kiyoomi is kinda… busy with me right now. Would be nice if ya called in the morning, or maybe… don’t call him at all, you dick.” _

Your Kiyoomi. He wasn’t Wakatoshi’s. And somehow the way Atsumu smiled at him gently and stopped so Kiyoomi could pick up the call from  _ Komori  _ but stopped giving a fuck once he realized it was  _ Wakatoshi,  _ a guy that broke his heart, was kinda, just a tiny little bit hot. 

Maybe it was still the drunk Kiyoomi thinking, but he liked the thought of Wakatoshi hearing him so pleased with someone else. Like Kiyoomi didn’t give a fuck about him.

Atsumu was staring at him, and Kiyoomi kinda wished to be just as drunk as he was the day before.

“You can give me your number if you want,  _ Miya”  _ he said softly, playing with the cup of coffee he was finishing. Atsumu snapped his eyes up, from his lips, and the surprised look in those pretty eyes made Sakusa laugh a little.

“Of course I want, Omi-kun. It’s kinda not my style to fuck someone without the first date.”

The taxi was waiting, and if they made out a little next to the door when Atsumu handed him the bag with Kiyoomi’s washed clothes, it was only for them to know.

He was sure Komori was going to kill him the second he walked into the apartment. His lovely best friend jumped to him the second he closed the door, smacking his head for not telling him what the fuck happened. Before Kiyoomi’s still a little fogged brain could register what was happening, he was being pulled inside, sat on the chair next to the table, with a mug of yet another coffee in front of him, and Komori glaring at him like he wanted to throw all detergents Kiyoomi owned out of the window. 

“I confessed to Wakatoshi.” He started casually, the stung in his chest still there, but just a little shallower. Komori choked on his coffee.

“What the fuck,  _ Sakusa _ ?” 

“And he rejected me.” He added, shrugging a little and trying his best not to laugh at the way Komori’s eyes widened. 

“That son of a bitch. Okay, what next.”

“So I decided to get a little bit drunk to forget my poor broken heart, and the pub was fucking gross, Komori. Gross.” He scowled a little. “And there was this total stranger that tried to talk to me, we did some body shots and went to his apartment, had a night full with sex and Wakatoshi calling me in the middle, and my sweet hookup making him listen to me moaning. Nothing out of ordinary.” 

Komori’s jaw hung open, as he stared at Sakusa like he was some fucked up stranger and not his sweet cousin. Kiyoomi laughed at exactly the same moment his phone buzzed.

Speaking of the devil.

“ _ Hi, Omi-omi. I know ya just left, but I can’t really get ya out of my mind so… mind if we meet sometime?”  _ Atsumu said, and Kiyoomi bit his lip trying to stop smiling. Komori started hitting his arm letting him know to put Atsumu on the speaker.

“Can’t get me out of your mind, huh? Is it the promised date or we’re going to fuck some more?” He teased, making Komori gag at how  _ gross  _ it was. Kiyoomi didn’t really care.

“ _ If you want, we can have the Netflix and chill kind of game but make it Mario cart and angry sex because ya won’t be able to win with me. _ ”

Kiyoomi laughed.

“Bet, Miya.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> that was fucking EXHAUSTING but thank you for reading babies <3 stay tuned, because i plan on writing another sakuatsu tomorrow... we will see how it goes, honestly.
> 
> with love,  
> tori <3


End file.
